Salvation
by Iggy Lovechild
Summary: Post Crimson ScourgePA: Albel copes with his past, madness, and growing feelings for Fayt. first person pov: Albel.


_disclaimer: points to Albel and Fayt making out in a corner See those boys? Yeah, they're not mine. They belong to Square/Enix and were created by Tri-Ace._

summary: Post Crimson Scourge-PA: Albel copes with his past, madness, and growing feelings for Fayt. first person pov: Albel.

a/n: In a lot of ways, this is how "Bloody Revelations" should have turned out. Not that I'm not happy with how it is currently. I wasn't as comfortable with the boys as I am now and it shows. It was my second or third attempt at Alfay, I seem to recall. Anyway, as it always happens when I write from Albel's pov, my portrayal of his madness is much more pronounced. 

_"**Salvation"**_

I was tired and this bothered me because I don't like the weak, heavy sensation of physical exhaustion. Even though I hid it well, Fayt was concerned, ignored my insistence that we should rejoin his comrades in Kirlsa. Instead he booked us a room in the local inn. We argued about it of course, but I could not dissuade him. Once the little fool sets his mind on something, it's nearly impossible to talk him out of it.

I suppose that's one of the things I like about him.

He was not the only one who could be stubborn, though. I didn't want to sleep, knew the nightmares would be back and worse than ever. For too long I'd not thought of my father and my failure. I have been too focused on becoming strong, on surpassing and overcoming legacies and ghosts.

Now that I had a piece of that legacy and the past that I had denied for so long, I had no idea what to feel. Certainly there was pride. Did this not prove that I was indeed worthy? Despite failing and killing my father in the process I was worthy…. It was rather absurd, but the entire situation was absurd, so I suppose it was appropriate.

Celestial ships…

Simulated reality…

Enemies that became comrades…

A rival that was becoming someone that I trusted, someone that I even cared about…

None of it made sense to me and I tired of thinking about it. I longed for sleep; I longed for so many things…

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

"That was your father's sword, wasn't it?"

Lucky me, the little fool couldn't sleep either.

"No," I replied softly. Shifting in bed, I turned to face him. He seemed so far away in his bed across the room and I wondered why that bothered me.

Fayt frowned and sat up in bed, shirtless and rumpled, and it was strange to realize that we were alone. Had we ever been truly alone? We've been sharing rooms since I began traveling with them. The blonde maggot can't abide my insomnia and no one else cared to keep me company for long.

I was used to this.

I was not used to this boy's concern. It was making me think strangely…

Yet someone had always been close by, always wanting Fayt's attention. In my mind, he absorbed all the light in the room until he was a beacon of purity and innocence. People longed for that warmth, drained his energy, and I could not stand to see him give so much more of himself to maggots that did not deserve it.

My mind was swimming and suddenly it was hard to concentrate on what he was saying.

"I don't understand. The king said that your father was the last one to wield that sword…." His slender eyebrows came together in an expression of confusion.

"My father _did _wield The Crimson Scourge," I explained haltingly, trying to collect my thoughts from the scatter they had become, "but you must understand that no one ever truly possesses the sword, it merely chooses a master that it will serve until the time of his death."

"Oh," Fayt's lips curled up into a small smile, "Well…You must be very proud."

I opened my mouth to say yes, I swear that I did; I had intended to tell him that it was long in coming, that it was only what I deserved: The best, because I am the finest warrior in this country and have been for a long while now. Instead, I told him the truth.

"No," I murmured.

"Albel?" His voice was laced with concern and how I hated it even as it filled me with a quiet joy.

I sat up, swung my long legs over the side of my bed. Leaning into the dark, wide space between us, I spoke softly, hissing my words into the silence. "Do you think I'm weak?"

"No," Fayt replied without hesitation.

"Liar," I spat, remembering _that _dayand _those words_ stolen from my lips and thrown back at me.

The fool had the gall to chuckle lightly, "are you thinking of that day at the mines? Listen, I didn't mean it. You'd just pissed me off and I guess I'd thought that you deserved to be knocked down a peg or two."

"What of today? Surely you much be disgusted to know of my self-loathing." I hated to admit it aloud, hated knowing that he had seen me so vulnerable. Twice now…Twice this boy had seen me so broken and it made me want to hurt him even as I longed to….

Still he could only smile at me as he crossed the room to stand before me. I had to look up to meet his eyes in my sitting position. The feeling of submission did not sit right with me and the sudden urge to hit him was so strong that I had to clench my hands into fists until my nails dug into my flesh and metal scraped against metal.

"Facing your fears," Fayt shook his head, "admitting to your flaws and feeling regrets: There's nothing weak about that, Albel. What you did was amazing and I'm glad to have been by your side."

He touched the crown of my head, his fingers tenetive as he stroked my hair. I was speechless, surprised by him, though it really shouldn't have unnerved me.

It seemed that we were constantly underestimating each other.

Since I couldn't let the fool have his quiet dominance in the situation, I leaned into him and pulled him closer. I listened to his breath hitch and wondered how long I'd been blind to his desire.

Oddly exhilarated by the revelation, I placed my mouth against the hollow of his throat. His skin was soft, deceptively delicate. "Tell no one of what you saw," I whispered.

Fayt nodded and trembled and I thrilled to be in control once more. I lifted my face from him neck and looked into his face. Those wide, guileless emerald eyes of his had gone dark with arousal. I was surprised; all I'd done was press my lips against his neck….

Curiosity got the better of me and I was much more interested in listening to his ragged breathing over the mad sorrow edging my consciousness. It was no wonder people flock to and fawn over the little fool if even _I _was not immune to his oblivious charm.

"Albel?" He panted my name and I decided that I liked the breathy quality of his voice.

"Shhh," I soothed, ran my right hand up his chest, enjoying the way his lashes fluttered, "Don't say a word."

I pressed my hand against the back of his neck and drew him into a kiss. Fayt moaned against the soft press of my mouth. His body shifted imperceptivity to press more fully against mine. I slid my tongue past his lips and tasted him. In my arms he shivered.

"Albel…I…" Fayt's eyes were wide as he broke the kiss, seeking to make some kind of grand confession. He looked half-terrified and I didn't want to hear the words.

I kissed him roughly, bruised that pretty mouth. "I said don't speak," I growled, "Don't say a word unless it's to moan my name."

For a moment he looked as though he might protest or get angry but then his expression softened. Perhaps he could see the blatant need written all over my face. I _did _need him, needed him more than I'd ever imagined needing another human being.

"What do you want me to do?" Fayt asked quietly.

While I thought it was rather obvious considering the boy was sitting on my lap with lips swollen from kisses, the question was oddly jarring. What _did _I want from Fayt? It was more than a longing for sexual release, more than mundane lust.

_I want you to save me._

Well that just wouldn't do from the lips of Albel the Wicked.

I frowned and considered my words carefully. The fingers of my right hand played over the smooth curve at the small of his back. His skin was exquisitely soft there and I longed to press my lips against that smooth valley. Desire was fogging my thought process. I've always loathed this heady sensation even as I hungered for its physical intensity.

"I want you to keep me awake," I finally murmured and he surprised me by not asking any questions about my meaning.

Fayt seemed to look straight into me, down to my soul. For a moment the blackness of rage blinded me. _To think that he would dare…_

But then he was kissing me, pressing my back into the bed underneath our tangled bodies. Hate and lust mingled within me as I let him steal my dominance.

I still wanted to hurt him and bit his tongue when I felt it in my mouth. His blood was copper sweet, just like everyone else's.

When he pulled away, he was smiling. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth and it ruined the sweet expression. In that instant he appeared savage and it made my heart pound wildly.

His lips formed the words that cut me to the marrow, "I love you."

I growled as I kissed him, half-wishing that I could kill him instead. "You always were a fool," I muttered between kisses.

Fayt only laughed breathily and I wondered if it was possible that I felt the same way. With a scowl I flipped the boy over and easily regained dominance of the situation.

_As if it matters, _I thought and pushed the thought from my mind and favour of the visceral pleasures of flesh and sensation.

_**Finis.**_


End file.
